


Of Truth and Temptation

by nanuk_dain



Series: Of Soldiers and Secrets [10]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alcohol, Established Relationship, Harry's drunken mind, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanuk_dain/pseuds/nanuk_dain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In vino veritas. Or: Lipton has to deal with a drunken Speirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Truth and Temptation

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/nanuk_dain/pic/0008xqg1)   


 

The world was perfect. Sun. Fresh air. No bullets flying around. No pain. A comfortable deck chair.

Booze.

A lot of that, by the way. And good stuff, too. Nothing he would ever have been able to afford if he had to pay for it. But that was the advantage of being 'invaders' – you could just take what was left over.

And there was a lot left over in Eagle's Nest. And it was good stuff.

Hadn't he said that already?

Pshaw! Who cared. Life was good.

Harry just stretched out on the deck chair with a huge, content grin, eyes closed against the sun that shone on his face. He decided that he was drunk. A little, at least. It was still sunny out there, so he shouldn't have had enough time to get really drunk. He guessed.

“Here, Harry.” Something touched his hand, cold and slightly wet, and Harry turned his head to the side to look at it. He saw a bottle of champagne and a hand holding it out to him. His gaze followed the arm that was attached to the hand, and then along the shoulder to the head. Ahh, Ron. Good man. With booze.

“Thanks a lot, Captain.” Harry replied with a grin and gave a mock salute before he took hold of the bottle and sat up so he could drink some more. He wasn't drunk enough, yet. Ron just snorted and stole the bottle Nix held between his hands with an almost meditative stare. Maybe he was just drunk, too.

Then there was Dick, all smiles and happiness and eyes for Nix, and Lip followed right behind him, more smiles and happiness and eyes for Ron. Harry knew he was drunk when he had problems standing upright, but really, even in in this 'inebriated state' as Kitty would put it, he had _no_ problems reading them. If they thought they were being subtle, Harry mused, then he was stone-cold sober.

Maybe he should convince Dick to drink something. It would help him loosen up and Nix would certainly approve of that, Harry thought while he tried to remain upright.

And then, the war was over.

Or so Dick said, smile even brighter, and Harry wondered if he wanted to compete with the sun. Harry didn't entirely get it, though. The war was always there, the only constant in the whole time they'd been in Europe. How could it be over?

Wow, that was big. He needed a drink.

Dick and Nix were gone before Harry had recovered from the war being over, and a Lip-hug helped him to realise that the thing with the war had indeed to be true. Lip didn't hug around, only when he was very happy. Or when you were Ron. But then, they usually tried to close the door before they started hugging. Once, they hadn't been fast enough, though, and Harry had seen them.

Cute, really. Especially Ron. Harry took another large pull from the bottle of champagne that he still held in his hand and looked at Ron and Lip. Really cute. Ron became a cuddly puppy around Lip. That special skill of Lip should be a weapon. That would have been awesome. Put Lip in the middle of an occupied zone, and all Germans come out to get cuddled. Why hadn't they thought about that before? The war could have been over so much sooner.

If it worked on Ron, it would work on the Germans. Certainly.

But then, Ron was very possessive, so maybe he would have tried to kill all those poor bastards who came at his Lip for hugs. That would _not_ have been nice. So much blood. And poor Lip right in the middle of it. Maybe that was the reason why the army hadn't used the Lip-Weapon.

“Harry? Sir?” Oh, there was a 'sir', so it could only be Lip. Ron hadn't been using a 'sir' for him for a very long time.

“I think you should lie down, sir.” Lip had a hand on Harry's shoulder, and his concerned face drifted into Harry's range of vision from somewhere to his right. Lip was really good at the concerned look, Harry thought and decided that lying down wasn't that bad. He must have said something along these lines, because Lip had taken hold of his other shoulder and guided him away from the terrace into the interior of Eagle's nest. He seemed to know where he was going, because suddenly there was a couch, and it was huge and it looked really inviting. Harry just fell down on it and waved Lip's protests away, reassuring him that he was fine and that he really _didn't_ need a bowl.

After some time, Harry couldn't have said how long even if threatened with death, he heard Lip's footsteps on the carpet and then it was quiet. Nice. But where was his bottle? Harry couldn't really bother enough to move. He drifted for some time, content with the world and the couch. Yip. Life was good.

There were voices, not entirely understandable, a bit muffled, but that could be because he was face down in the pillow. Harry made a small unintelligible sound and turned his head. Ahh, that was better.

“Ron, what...” Lip, that was definitely Lip. He had to be further away, probably out on the terrace, and he sounded a bit breathless. That boy needed a drink.

“Car...” Wow, what a strange voice. Low, rough, dark, and it was saying things that made no sense. What was a car doing up here at Eagle's Nest? There weren't any cars, he was sure of that.

He was going to ask Lip about the car. Not now, though. Tomorrow. Now, he just wanted to stay on this impressively comfortable couch and sleep.

There were more sounds, and Harry chuckled in the pillow. He wasn't drunk enough _not_ to understand _these_ sounds. Lip and The Voice were going to do dirty things. He didn't want to know about their dirty things. He'd rather _do_ dirty things. With Kitty. He wanted Kitty and then do dirty things with her. She loved dirty things. She was good at them, too. Kitty was just good at everything.

Well, she wasn't good at baking. She always burnt everything. He loved Kitty. His Kitty.

He smiled and hugged the pillow, and he was sure it smelled like his Kitty. That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up with a hell of a hangover the next day.

***

Bringing Harry to bed – or rather couch, in this specific case – had been the easy part of the task. Lipton was certain that dealing with Ron was going to be far more difficult.

He couldn't have been more right.

Before he'd even entered the terrace, he felt Ron grip his shoulders and press him against the wall of the stairway. His movements weren't entirely sure anymore, but he still managed to trap Lipton between himself and the stonewall with that single-minded determination that only children and drunk persons were capable of. Ron's mouth was on his as soon as they had stopped moving, and for a moment, surprise and desire got the better of Lipton and he gave in, allowing himself to return the sensual touch of lips and tongues.

But only for a moment. Then the voice of reason that was deeply ingrained in his very being made him pull back. Ron obviously hadn't understood that Carwood wasn't only playing hard to get, because he tried to capture his mouth again, hands still securely on Lipton's waist.

“Ron, what...”

“Car...” Oh God. Lipton had to close his eyes to force himself to stay strong. He swore that Ron knew exactly what this pet name did to him, especially when Ron used that dark tone of his voice that made goosebumps spread all over Carwood's skin.

Still, Lipton tried to listen to the voice of reason. “Ron, Harry is asleep in the room right next to us!”

Ron just leaned in and began to lick his earlobe. “I don't care.”

“But I do! I don't intend to get court-martialled now that the war is over and we actually managed to survive it!” It cost Lipton all of his discipline to actually step back. He needed to bring physical distance between him and the obviously drunk Ronald Speirs, or his resolve would be gone in the blink of an eye.

“As if Harry would ever betray us.” Ron huffed out, obviously not happy about the space separating him from the object of his desire. “He's known for ages, anyway.”

“What?” Lipton couldn't help sounding breathless, and it didn't have much to do with desire anymore.

Ron nodded pensively, then his face contorted in a frown of concentration. “And Nix knows, too. And Winters, I think.”

It took Lipton almost half a minute to find his voice, and in that time, he tried to rein in his thoughts that were running wild. Ron was drunk. Maybe he was just talking nonsense.

Hopefully.

Lipton cleared his throat and tried not to sound panicked. “What makes you think they know?”

“Well, Nix saw this.” Ron pointed with his hand at his collarbone, where, true enough, a bite mark was visible under his unbuttoned shirt. Lipton felt a blush creep up his neck. He knew he shouldn't bite Ron, really, he knew, but he just couldn't help it. And seeing how Ron seemed to get off on the feeling of his teeth on his throat, it was really difficult to control himself enough _not_ to bite. He rarely managed, and Ron had teased him for it mercilessly ever since. It was good that Ron didn't mind wearing a scarf, even if it was warm. They'd be deep in trouble otherwise.

“How did he see it?” Lipton wondered, aware that he sounded a bit flustered despite his best efforts to the contrary. “You knew it was there and you've said you'd cover...”

“No, not _this_ one precisely.” Ron interrupted him with a vague movement of his hand and his words reminded Carwood of the _multitude_ of bite marks he'd given Ron over the time. “The first one.”

“First one?”

“On the way to Haguenau.” Ron said in a voice that made it clear that he thought the question was incredibly stupid.

Lipton couldn't find anything to reply to that. He was really and truly shocked into speechlessness. He swallowed several times against the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat before he was able to press out, “You mean all this time Captain Nixon _knew_...”

Ron just nodded, and there was a smile on his lips that was almost smug. “He threw me a scarf and told me to better cover – and I quote – 'Lip's little message'.”

With a groan Lipton sagged back against the wall and his head fell into his hands. This was getting worse with every minute. “And Winters?” he asked through his hands.

“Whatever Nix knows, Winters knows.” Ron shrugged as if stating an obvious truth.

Lipton just wanted to never face any of his superior officers again. He didn't raise his head, only murmured into his finger, “That's not all. He caught me saying your first name back when I was sick with pneumonia...”

“Yeah, well, I guess that was as good as a confession.” Ron huffed out a laugh. He seemed to be pretty amused by all of this. Lip blamed the alcohol for his relaxed stance on things. Tomorrow, he'd look at them differently.

When Ron swayed on his feet, Lipton overcame his moment of self-pity and took hold of his arm. “Come on, let's get back to the terrace and sit down.”

Ron mulishly remained where he was. “I don't need to sit down.”

Lipton sighed. “Well, but after what you just told me, _I_ have to sit down.”

“Oh. All right.” Ron nodded instantly and let Lipton steer him towards the terrace. Lipton sat down and was just about to pull Ron down to sit next to him on the foot of the deck chair when, in a moment of alcohol induced euphoria, Ron threw himself against Lipton. Carwood fell backwards from the momentum and found himself with an armful of drunkenly happy captain on top of him, smiling down at him with a glow in his green eyes.

“Got'cha.” Ron murmured and bend down, his lips passing over Lipton's in a slow caress, more a touch than a kiss. Then he nibbled on Lipton's bottom lip in an almost lazy way before he licked along the bites. Lipton couldn't help falling for the gentle and teasing caress, couldn't push Ron away when he was like this. He never could. He loved the rare moments of Ron's tenderness too much to ever refuse them.

Ron never deepened the kiss, he seemed to be entirely happy just exploring Carwood's mouth with his lips, his teeth and his tongue. Lipton just lay there, eyes closed, absorbing every touch, every nip, every lick and indulging in the sensations they caused. After a long time, Ron pecked him on the lips one last time and rested his head on Lipton's shoulder, the rest of his body stretched out over Carwood in a boneless sprawl. Ron moved a bit, his hands finding Lipton's sides and forming into fists in the fabric of his uniform jacket, obviously getting comfortable with no intention to move any time soon.

Lipton signed quietly. However much he enjoyed this, doing it here and now was reckless. “Somebody could walk in, Ron.”

“Nobody's here.” The voice that answered him was muffled from where Ron's head was pressed into Carwood's uniform.

“Ron...”

“I know, Car.” Ron replied, and Lipton thought that he sounded sleepy. “Just for a moment.”

Carwood sighed again, this time in defeat, because he knew he didn't have the heart to dislodge Ron when he was so trustingly cuddled up against him. It happened rarely, and never this openly – Ron obviously had to be drunk to allow himself to be needy – and Lipton cherished the moment too much to end it without a pressing need. And there was none at the moment. Eagle's Nest was deserted apart from Harry, who was passed out cold on the couch inside. Nobody would come up here, the waves of curious soldiers had already passed this afternoon.

Carwood brought his arms up and wrapped them around the strong back, one of his hands sliding in the tousled hair. Ron moved his head a little and snuggled closer, burying his nose under Lipton's ear.

“Don't ever leave me, Carwood.”

The words were so low he almost didn't hear them. For a moment, Carwood was utterly speechless. He couldn't say what it was about that sentence that surprised and touched him so much, the way Ron said it or the words themselves. Of course he'd known he and Ron weren't just blowing off steam – there were far easier ways to do that – but he'd never expected to hear Ron confirm that.

He tightened his hold on Ron's shoulder and let his fingers stroke through his hair in an almost unconscious caress. “I don't intend to, Ron.”

There was no answer, and Lipton suspected that the alcohol had taken its toll and Ron had finally fallen asleep. Carwood's heart was still beating too fast, his head swimming with the implications of the quiet words, and he wondered if Ron would even remember them in the morning. Probably not, considering how much he'd had to drink. He sighed silently and pressed a kiss on the skin of Ron's temple right under his lips. At least he knew now that his feelings weren't one-sided. It would have to be enough.

“Promise?” Ron asked suddenly, moving even closer, his voice low and heavy with sleep.

“Yeah.” Lipton breathed out equally quiet and kissed his temple again. “I promise.”

A moment later, Lipton felt Ron's chest move against his own in the gentle motion of regular, deep breaths and it told him that now, Ron was truly asleep. Carwood closed his eyes, tightened his hold on the man in his arms and buried his nose in his hair.

It would have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> The beautiful banner was made by my dear Megan_Moonlight!


End file.
